


The Ambassador of Earth

by Shinyunderwater



Series: Outrun the Sunset [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinyunderwater/pseuds/Shinyunderwater
Summary: The Doctor takes her companions on a trip meant to inspire, a summit ninety eight years into the future which will decide whether humanity may join the Intergalactic Senate. What should have been a fun couple of hours celebrating one of humanity's future achievements soon has the TARDIS team submerged in deadly political intrigue. The Doctor has many questions, but few answers. She needs to find out what's happening, who's behind it, and perhaps most important of all, who this strange Ambassador of Earth is.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to The Ambassador of Earth! This is my take on what a series premiere could look like if the show came back in 2019, because I do not want to wait for 2020 (Lord knows if we'll even last that long). If you like the story I'd love a comment! If you don't care for it, tell me why. I thrive off of creative discourse. Thanks for reading!

Standing in front of the TARDIS doors before they opened, before any hint of what might lie beyond, was often the best part. Anything could be outside. It might be beautiful. It might be deadly. It might be both. There was only one way to find out. Butterflies swarmed in Yaz's stomach in anticipation. She glanced over at the Doctor, who was sporting a wide grin. That only heightened the anticipation.

 

“Where are we this time Doc,” Graham asked. “Or when?”

 

“Take a look,” was all the Doctor would say.

 

Yaz needed no further encouragement. She rushed through the doors with Ryan and Graham close behind. Outside was a rocky landscape under a thick black sky lit up with stars and multi-colored moons. Yaz counted seven moons, her favorite being the small pale pink one. But the most eye-catching sight was a tall tower made of obsidian and granite that rose from the ceiling of a huge auditorium. “What is it?”

 

“That,” the Doctor said with untempered delight. “Is the meeting place of the Intergalactic Senate. We're ninety eight years into the future, and one of the most important summits to ever convene is about to begin.”

 

“Why's it so important,” Ryan asked. “Is there a war or something about to break out?”

 

“No,” the Doctor said, her smile growing ever brighter. “It's nothing so dreadful. Today is the day the Senate will decide whether to admit humanity into their ranks.”

 

Yaz watched a blue fellow in a Tweed suit rush for a door guarded by what looked like two giant rhinos. The man paid the rhinos no mind, but showed a piece of paper to an orangeish woman in a gray suit. She waved him on with a bored expression. “I suppose you already know what the answer will be.”

 

“I might,” the Doctor confessed. “And I might not. But regardless it would hardly be any fun for me to tell you, would it?”

 

“Let's go then,” Ryan said. “Find out what the rest of the universe thinks of us.”

 

“I'm not entirely sure I want to know,” Graham said, but he followed his grandson, so his curiosity must have been stronger than his apprehension.

 

Yaz and the Doctor shared another smile before the Doctor offered her an arm, which Yaz was more than happy to take. The three of them stopped at the door while the Doctor fished for her psychic paper.

 

The bored orange woman sighed. “More security? Has anyone ever accused you humans of paranoia,” she asked.

 

“It's only paranoia when they aren't out to get you,” Graham joked. “Do you know how many times we've almost been invaded?”

 

The woman rolled her eyes before turning to one of the rhinos. “Can you escort them to the stage?”

 

The rhino barked some harsh syllables before turning and walking down a long hallway. “We're meant to follow,” the Doctor said as she did so. “Come on! So thrilling.”

 

“What are they,” Ryan whispered.

 

“Jadoon,” the Doctor said. “Don't mind them.”

 

“Wow,” Graham said. “Now that's something.”

 

As the hallway widened and they neared their destination the interior of the auditorium became visible. Thousands of beings sat in the rows facing the large stage. Some looked alien. Some looked human. Some were difficult to tell. In the front row sat who appeared to be several glass bubbles stuck into a fleshy mass similar in appearance to chewed upon bubble gum. In each glass bubble floated an eye. Two chunks of pink flesh parted to reveal sharp silver teeth and let loose a roar of laughter. “You are too humorous my friend, far, far too enjoyable!”

 

“Now that's a proper alien,” Ryan said.

 

Yaz pointed at the stage, which was being ascended by a black woman of advanced years, who used a cane but did not seem to be altogether reliant on it. Her white hair sprung from her head like a happy winter garden. She wore flowing rich red robes that called to mind roses, strawberries and other delightful vegetation. “Who's that?”

 

“If I had to guess I would say that's the ambassador for Earth,” the Doctor said.

 

“So she's going to plead our case,” Ryan asked. “Say why we're not so bad.”

 

“C'mon,” the Doctor said. “Let's get closer.”

 

The Doctor and her companions approached the stage. A tall man put out a hand to stop them. “Halt. None may pass.”

 

The Doctor held up her psychic paper. “No worries mate. Extra security. Here to help protect the ambassador. Glad to be part of the team. How are things looking?”

 

He lowered his hand. “You may pass.”

 

“Thanks,” the Doctor said.

 

The Doctor led them through a door that brought them under the stage. Sound equipment took up most of the space, but there were also at least a dozen people flitting about, looking busy. A staircase took them up to the stage, separated from the ambassador by only a curtain. If they stood at just the right angle they had a perfect view of the proceedings. The ambassador and her audience were all in view. “Traveling with you is like having a VIP pass for life,” Ryan said.

 

“Sh,” Yaz said. “She's about to start talking.”

 

The Ambassador stood tall, one hand on her cane, but not resting her weight upon it. The other hand was on a single piece of paper she had placed on the podium. “Friends, colleagues, citizens of the Universe,”

 

“Romans, countrymen, lend me-” Ryan whispered before Yaz silenced him with a glare. “Sorry, just messing about.”

 

“I see the esteemed Senator Agportangii from Prijporkalam is with us today.” The alien with the floating eyes roared with approval at what Yaz guessed was his name. “The Senator holds the record for longest advocation at three days, seventeen hours and thirty two minutes.” The ambassador paused. “I will not attempt to break that record.” Graham sighed in relief and was echoed by a large portion of the audience. “I would never be able to capture the elegance and intellect the senator displayed with such skill. Indeed I fear I have only a small number of words to share with you all today, but they are precious to me and I beg you to receive them.” The ambassador paused again. Yaz was amazed by her calm and graceful demeanor.

 

“They seem to like her,” Graham said.

 

Yaz looked at the audience. She agreed with Graham. They were all silent as they waited for the ambassador to continue. “Many of you know me. Many, if I do not delude myself know of me. But that is not important. I am not here on my own behalf, but on behalf of the people of Earth. I know better than to believe fondness for myself can be exchanged for tolerance of my people.”

 

“Is she speaking for or against humans being allowed in the club,” Ryan asked.

 

“Hush,” Yaz said. “Let her finish.”

 

“I am well aware of what is said of us, behind our backs and to our faces. ‘Humans! Loud belligerent troublesome creatures. Ours is a Senate of wisdom and culture. Humans will not fit in with us.’ I will not deny the transgressions of my ancestors, nor will I make excuses for them. What you have seen and been told of humanity is more true than it is untrue. Some rumors are mere fanciful stories, but for the most part…” The ambassador paused again, and silence reigned as her audience waited for her to continue. “Yes, we warred. Yes, we oppressed. We neglected. We abused. We enslaved. We were cruel to one another. And I will not say that we have evolved and all those days are behind us. Because there are humans who continue to engage in such practices. And if you admit us to the Senate you will be embracing those humans just as much as you will be embracing the healers, the artists and the builders. That my friends is the reason why you should admit us.”

 

“Huh,” Graham said. “I'm lost.”

 

“The Senate is a wonderful institution. Here such miracles occur. In this place treaties are signed. Bridges are built. Love is shared. We come to this place with full hearts and good intentions, and such magic takes place. But how is this possible? What makes the Senate so effective? Here every stage of evolutionary development is represented. All can benefit from the experiences of the collective whole. The mistakes and misfortunes of the past become the wisdom and wealth of the future. My friends, who has made more mistakes than humanity? Who has more folly to share than us?”

 

The ambassador paused again, and Yaz took the opportunity to sneak a peek at the Doctor and gauge her reaction. The Doctor was captivated, her face aglow. Yaz turned her attention back to the ambassador.

 

“The Senate is not an ivory tower where out of touch elites convene. It is a place where all are welcome who are ready and willing to engage in good faith. It is a place of growth and a place of healing. It is a place where all the citizens of the universe can make their voices heard. Denying a species admittance will not make them any less a part of the universe, it will only serve to silence all the voices contained within. We are your neighbors. We want to share ourselves with you, to love you, and perhaps in turn be loved by you. I ask that you give us the opportunity to share all that we are with you, not because you must, not because you should, but because we have so much to give, and our hearts are aching to give it. I thank you all for your time. You have been so good to hear me. In the words of my mother, there is magic all around us love, though it goes by many names. Be it technology or prayer or a simple act of kindness. I have felt magic in this room today. Thank you for the experience.”

 

It was only as the ambassador took her hand off her speech that Yaz realized she hadn't looked down once. A moment later the auditorium burst into applause. Yaz looked at the Doctor and they beamed at one another.

 

“I'd say that applause speaks for itself, wouldn't you,” Graham asked.

 

“Oh don't be so sure.” The curtain parted and the ambassador joined them backstage. “It is customary to applaud after an advocation. To do otherwise would be seen as an act of impropriety. They may applaud with all their strength and then turn around and vote against us.” The ambassador stepped closer to the Doctor and then before any of them could react enveloped her in a hug. “Thank you for coming.” The ambassador stepped back and examined the Doctor. “And look at you, so very early.” She grinned in delight.

 

“Early for what,” Yaz asked.

 

The ambassador smiled at Yaz. “I might have known. That cheeky grin. The way the Doctor guaranteed her presence.” The ambassador faced the Doctor again. “You had already been here when I asked you to come.”

 

“What,” Graham asked.

 

“Anybody else hungry,” the ambassador asked. “Lunch is being laid out in my suite.”

 

The Doctor's companions stared at her, hoping she would make sense of what was happening. But the Doctor only mirrored the ambassador's smile. “I love a good lunch.”

 

“Excellent! We can all catch up. It's been decades since the five of us were together.”

 

The Doctor followed the ambassador, and the rest of the party were left with no choice but to do likewise. “Doctor,” Yaz whispered as the ambassador explained to her flustered security detail she had some special guests that would be joining her for lunch. “Do you know the ambassador? Why didn't you say?”

 

“Never met her before in my life,” the Doctor said in a chipper tone. “One of the side effects of being a time traveler, some stories end up out of order. You meet old friends who have never seen you before, and strangers who are your closest confidants.”

 

“Oh…” Yaz said. “All right…”

 

“C'mon then Yaz. Lunch!” The Doctor bounded after the ambassador with great delight, and Yaz followed as well, wondering how she herself knew Earth's ambassador.


	2. Part Two

The table in front of Graham was laden with a plethora of familiar and unfamiliar cuisine, all lit up by the colorful moonlight shining through the twelve windows in the ambassador's suite. There was a large pot of something that looked similar to curry. There was some sort of fowl trussed up and glazed with a sweet smelling sauce. There were platters and platters of vegetables, some of probable Earth origin, some most definitely otherwise. There were dumplings soaking in broth. There were hills of pasta. There was a collection of apple and pear slices soaking in a white liquid. It all looked amazing under the light of the amber moon. “That's quite the spread ambassador,” Graham said.

 

“Please Graham, we're old friends. You can use my name,” the ambassador said.

 

“Of course. And it's…” Graham looked from the Doctor to Yaz, back to the Doctor, then to Ryan and finally the Doctor once more, searching for a name or an excuse.

 

His concern proved unnecessary. The ambassador was far from offended. “You don't know me yet. It's been a while since that happened. I'll be careful not to let my identity slip,” she said in a tone of assurance.

 

“Why,” Ryan asked, mirroring Graham's own thoughts. “Can't you tell us who you are?”

 

The Doctor answered for the ambassador. “If we were introduced to the ambassador for the first time at some point in her past introducing herself to us now could cause a paradox. Better safe than sorry.”

 

The ambassador nodded while heading to a table adorned with photographs and then setting several of them face down. “Quite right. Now, who should like to cut the qij?”

 

The Doctor looked at the dressed bird on the table. “Ooh! I haven't had qij in ages!”

 

The ambassador returned to the table and picked up a large sharp knife. She offered it to the Doctor. “The honor is yours.”

 

“Thank you ambassador,” the Doctor said.

 

The ambassador gestured to the many seats around her table. “All of you, please sit.”

 

Everyone sat down, save for the Doctor, who was cutting everyone a thick slice of qij. “Is it good,” Ryan asked. “What planet is it from?”

 

The ambassador ladled some dumplings onto a plate and passed it to Graham. He was surprised, but he took the plate. “Ever so good,” the ambassador assured Ryan.

 

The Doctor backed her up. “When prepared properly qij melts in the mouth like a warm summer day,” she said as she added slices to everyone's plates. The ambassador placed a red vegetable stuffed with some sort of green sauce onto Yaz's plate. “Oh! Tegra! You'll love that Yaz, I'm sure,” the Doctor enthused.

 

The ambassador placed a white vegetable coated with liberal seasoning onto Ryan's plate. “If I recall Ryan, you're quite fond of rajajag. At least you seemed to enjoy it the last time I saw you.” She grinned at him.

 

“Never tried it before,” Ryan said. “But thanks.” He looked at Graham with a raised brow. Graham felt the same way.

 

The ambassador set to filling her own plate as the Doctor exclaimed over various exotic foodstuffs. “Please eat,” the ambassador implored them. “Do not stand on ceremony.”

 

Graham felt some apprehension, but he had no wish to offend the ambassador. He placed a dumpling in his mouth and bit into it. A sea of wonderful flavors exploded onto his tongue and his eyes widened with delight. “This is incredible!” He looked at Ryan and saw that his grandson was enjoying his meal as well.

 

“It's good to know my memory has not yet begun to decay,” the woman said. “At my age that tends to become the prevalent fear.”

 

“How old are you,” Ryan asked.

 

“Ryan!” Yaz scowled at him.

 

“Sorry,” Ryan said. He looked chagrined.

 

“That's quite alright,” the ambassador said. “I am one hundred and six years old.”

 

“Wow,” Yaz said. “You look great.”

 

“Well the Doctor is older than I am,” the ambassador said. “How old are you these days D-Doctor?” The ambassador's voice took on a tone of alarm. They all turned to look at the Doctor, who had gone still as stone, her fork halfway to her mouth.

 

“Doc, what's the matter,” Graham asked.

 

The Doctor dropped her fork, which hit her plate with a loud clatter. “I've just been poisoned,” she whispered. “I think it was the qij. Has anybody else had any yet?”

 

Everyone leapt to their feet. “What?!” Yaz rushed to the Doctor and knelt by her chair.

 

“What do we do,” Ryan asked, voice saturated in panic.

 

“I recognize the poison. Yaghakor, instantly fatal for humans, takes a bit longer on Time Lords, but if I don't neutralize the poison it will melt all of my internal organs. I like these organs, have grown quite attached to them, in the most literal sense too,” the Doctor said.

 

“Doctor, what do we do,” Yaz shouted.

 

The Doctor yelped and proceeded to spasm with such force she fell from her chair. Yaz was knelt next to her, her hands fluttering like she didn't know whether it would help or worsen the situation to touch the Doctor.

 

Graham looked around the room. “Is there any sort of first aid kit in here,” he asked.

 

“Won't help,” the Doctor said. “Cold.”

 

Graham grabbed a throw off of a chair. He started towards the Doctor. “Here Doc-”

 

“No! I'm not cold! I need something cold!”

 

The ambassador upended the bowl of soaking fruit, covering the table in white fluid, which dripped down and saturated the plush crimson carpet. Beneath that bowl had been a large dish of ice to keep the concoction cool, which the Ambassador brought to the Doctor. The Doctor held the dish to her lips and began to down the melted ice. When the water was gone she started shoving handfuls of ice into her face, crunching and swallowing them as fast as she could. “What else,” the Ambassador asked. “What do you need?”

 

“I need something that will bind the poison together so I can expell it,” the Doctor said.

 

“A medication,” Graham asked.

 

“Sticky! Something sticky!”

 

Ryan grabbed a beautiful ceramic dispenser full of some sort of viscous fluid that smelled like flowers. “Here!” He gave it to the Doctor.

 

She imbibed the entire thing. Graham wrinkled his nose, imagining the cloying taste. The Doctor rolled over onto her stomach and began coughing. “Doc!”

 

The Doctor sounded like she was choking, but with one last forceful cough she hacked up a ball of coagulated syrup with veins of shimmering red running through it. Graham supposed the red was the poison. “Doctor say something,” Yaz pleaded. “You're not going to die, right? Please say you won't.”

 

The Doctor rolled onto her back. She was panting from exertion. “I'm fine.”

 

“You were poisoned,” Graham shouted.

 

“Yes, but other than that I'm fine.”

 

The ambassador put her hand over her heart and struggled into a chair. “Things never can be simple with you around, can they Doctor?”

 

“But who poisoned you,” Yaz asked. “Hardly anyone even knew we were up here.”

 

Ryan looked at the ambassador. Then he looked at Graham. Graham could see in his eyes what he was thinking. They had all taken the ambassador at her word that she was an old friend. Perhaps the opposite was true. “Only one person,” Graham said in what was an attempt at a causal affect.

 

The ambassador snorted a laugh. “You think I poisoned the Doctor? Historically not a very effective way to kill her. Radiation sickness has been the most common cause of death for you, hasn't it Doctor?” She smiled.

 

The Doctor sat up with a groan. “That and being shot. For some reason being unarmed doesn't always stop things from shooting at me. It's unfair is what it is.” She thumped her chest a few times. “I'd love some water.”

 

Graham poured her a glass from a pitcher on the table and then stopped. “How do we know what else on this table is safe?”

 

“Did you drink any water,” the Doctor asked.

 

“Yeah,” Graham said.

 

“Then it's safe,” the Doctor said. “If there was any poison in the water you would be dead.”

 

“Cheery thought,” he said as he handed over the water. “You sure you'll be alright?”

 

The Doctor nodded. “I've been poisoned lots of times,” she said with a flippant hand flap.

 

“You say that like it's assuring,” Yaz said.

 

“Isn't it,” the Doctor asked.

 

“Not really,” Ryan said.

 

“No,” Graham confirmed.

 

“Increases the anxiety,” Yaz said.

 

“What I'm concerned about right now,” Graham said “is who poisoned you and if they're going to try again.”

 

The Doctor shook her head. “They weren't trying to poison me.” She looked over at the ambassador, still seated, fiddling with her cane. One by one they all brought their gazes over to her. “Ambassador,” the Doctor said.

 

The ambassador sighed. “Life is always more interesting when you're around. What is it my mother used to say? The Doctor is by far the most effective weathervane. He always spins before the storm commences. Well she now.”

 

“This food was already being prepared before we even arrived. Someone meant for you to eat that qij. They tried to kill you,” the Doctor said. “Do you have any enemies?”

 

The ambassador threw up her hands. “I'm the ambassador of Earth! Of course I do. I've been around for over a century. I've been to a lot of places and met a lot of people. Not all of them have liked me, despise my dazzling personality. But if someone wanted to assassinate me, there are simpler ways.”

 

Graham nodded, remembering the Jadoon downstairs. “I'm assuming you aren't always surrounded by this much security.”

 

“You're correct,” the ambassador said. “In fact most of the time I have none at all. Whoever poisoned the qij had to sneak through dozens of security checkpoints just to get on this planet, and then dozens more to get into the tower. They could have just shot me with a rifle leaving or entering my home back on Earth- Oh. That's not a pleasant thought.”

 

“But they wanted to kill you here,” Yaz said.

 

“It's got to have something to do with the vote, doesn't it,” Graham asked. “Somebody doesn't want humans on their precious Senate apparently. Maybe they hope killing you will ruin our chances,” he suggested.

 

“But the ambassador already gave her speech,” Ryan reminded them.

 

“Ryan's right,” the Doctor said. “Killing the ambassador at this stage is more likely to make people view her as a martyr than it is to make them want to vote against you.”

 

“Maybe that's it,” Yaz said. “Maybe someone wants us to get in really bad, and they're willing to sacrifice the senator to make sure that happens.” Yaz frowned.

 

The ambassador got to her feet. “The idea that one of my own allies could do such a thing sickens me,” She released a heavy sigh. “But I can't discount it. I am of advanced years. Perhaps a mind that considered itself pragmatic decided that I had lived long enough and was a fair price to pay for the advancement of the species.” The ambassador looked away. Graham followed her gaze to the mess on the table, the signs of violence present even if no one had sustained permanent injury. His heart went out to her. It was a terrible thing she had to consider, that a friend or colleague might at this very moment be planning her demise.

 

“We won't let that happen,” the Doctor declared. “Ambassador I promise you, no matter what it takes you will live to see humanity join the Intergalactic Senate. I give you my word,” the Doctor swore.

 

The ambassador shook her head in that fond way adults have when precocious children get into trouble. “Doctor, you must remember to be careful with your promises.”

 

“I intend to keep this one.”

 

“You always do,” the ambassador whispered.

 

“Hey now, none of that,” Graham said. “We will keep you safe ambassador. The Doctor said so, and as far as I'm concerned her word is just about good as gold. We'll protect you, and we'll find out who was behind this.”

 

“That's a guarantee,” Ryan backed him up.

 

The ambassador gave them all a mouthful smile. It was the sort of expression that had a lot of years behind it, and Graham struggled not to look away. “Who am I to argue with some of Earth's greatest heroes? If you say it than it shall be so.” Graham could tell her statement was for their benefit, not born of an actual belief, but it was the best they would get and he chose to accept it.

 

“Right,” the Doctor said. “Yaz, I want you to stay with the ambassador. Keep her out of harm's way. No one gets in this suite except for us, understood,” she asked.

 

“Got it,” Yaz said.

 

“Ryan, Graham, you're with me. We're going qij hunting.” Graham assumed that last statement would be funny if he was from the future, since it procured a chuckle from the ambassador. Graham locked eyes with his grandson, and the two of them followed the Doctor out of the suite.


	3. Part Three

Ryan watched the Doctor use her Sonic to fiddle with the door controls. “There, now I've hacked into the systems. No one should be able to get in there unless Yaz or the Ambassador open the door for them.”

 

“Unless they're a better hacker than you are,” Graham pointed out.

 

The Doctor frowned. “Yes, well that doesn't happen very often,” she assured them.

 

“So then it does happen sometimes,” Ryan asked her.

 

“Alright! Let's focus on our mission.”

 

Ryan hid a small grin. As tense as the situation was, and as high as the stakes may be, he couldn't help but be amused by the Doctor's vanity. He supposed she was entitled to it. She was just as brilliant as she claimed to be. But it was fun having a bit of a go at her from time to time. “What's the plan then Doctor? Should we start at security?”

 

“Hang on, I've a thought,” Graham said. “So that red stuff, that was the poison, right?”

 

“Ech, don't remind me,” the Doctor twisted her face in memory of the incident.

 

“Well there wasn't anything red on the bird itself. The poison must have been cooked into the meat or the sauce. If it had just been sprinkled on at some point we would have seen red on the dish,” Ryan said.

 

“Which means whoever added the poison was in the kitchen while the meal was being prepared! Graham O'Brien you are brilliant.”

 

“Thanks Doc.”

 

The Doctor clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Right then gang, here's the plan of action. Ryan, security should remember you as being part of the ambassador's detail. Go down there and gather all the information you can about everyone who's been in and out of the tower.”

 

“Won't that be like thousands of people?”

 

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Graham, take my psychic paper and go to the kitchen. Say you're from health and safety. It's not likely that whoever did this is still there, but we can't leave any stone unturned, and even if they're gone you might be able to get a description of anyone that was suspicious.”

 

“Right-O Doc.”

 

“What about you Doctor,” Ryan asked. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Me? I'm just going to wander around, see if I can pick up the general impression the ambassador gives off. We'll meet back here.”

 

The Doctor ran off, coat flapping behind her like a farewell wave. Ryan and Graham exchanged a smile. Her exuberant energy had a slight contagious quality. They couldn't help but feel the odds were in their favor. “Be careful son,” Graham warned. “Don't go putting yourself in harm's way.”

 

“You either Gramps,” Ryan said.

 

Graham nodded. “Good luck.” He pocketed the psychic paper and headed towards the kitchen. Ryan watched him go and then began the long descent towards the security desk at the entrance to the building.

 

The time it took Ryan to get to the bottom of the tower gave him plenty of opportunity to form a strategy. He was determined to walk in with confidence and gather the information they needed. His friends were counting on him, and he refused to fail them. At the security station the orangeish woman and her Jadoon backup were focused on the entrance to the building. They didn't notice Ryan until he was almost right upon them. “Hello.”

 

“Can I help you,” the alien asked in a tone of voice that implied she had no particular desire to be helpful in any way.

 

“I'm part of the ambassador's security-”

 

“Yes, I remember you. What is it?”

 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious come in today? Maybe someone odd or out of place? It could be important,” Ryan said.

 

“Do you know what? Something really strange did happen today. The ambassador of Earth added four new people to her security detail without filing any of the proper paperwork. Then they just strolled in without even calling ahead from their ship to have their security passes ready. That was weird.”

 

Ryan refused to show his anxiety or discomfort. He instead gave the orangeish woman his harshest unamused glare. He channeled one of his primary school teachers for the best effect. “Listen. Do you think I don't know what it's like to spend all day following stupid rules set by idiot bosses that most people don't even bother to learn anyway, so what's the point? I've been there, okay? Trust me. We're all just running around doing what we're told. Half the time our instructions don't make a bit of sense, but if we dare to ask for clarification we're insubordinate. I get it. My boss just told me to compile a report on any potential threats to the ambassador's safety. We just got here, and I'm supposed to write up some great big report she probably will just glance at and then trash before yelling at me for taking too long. So, since we can both agree that our jobs suck, and things don't work the way they should, let's not make each other's lives any harder than they need to be. Just let me take a look at your files, and then I'll be out of your way. How does that sound,” Ryan asked.

 

The orangeish woman gave him an appraising glance. “Sorry,” she said. “It's just this day. Advocations are always a security nightmare, and those of us out front always take the brunt of the frustration, even when the people in the back are the ones that screw up. Honestly I think I may go mad before this cursed vote finally finishes.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Ryan encouraged her.

 

“Like just this morning some guy from this big Earth institution Oxfoot or whatever-”

 

“Oxford,” Ryan suggested.

 

“That's it. Apparently it's a learning institution or something. I've never heard of it, but he was acting like he was SUCH a big deal. He had this special bag we couldn't check because it contained a bunch of delicate artifacts or whatever. He made such a fuss, and a line was starting to form. We get in such trouble when lines form. Finally we agreed to put it in the vault just to shut him up. Ridiculous.”

 

“The vault?”

 

“Yeah, downstairs,” she said.

 

“Yeah the vault!” Ryan's brain kicked up a gear as he began processing the new information as fast as possible. “I'm so glad you mentioned that! I almost forgot. The ambassador told me to put something down there for her. You think you could take me downstairs? Sorry, I know you've a lot to do.”

 

The orangeish woman looked around. “Well traffic will be pretty slight until the vote ends.”

 

“So you'll take me down?”

 

The woman uttered a few harsh syllables to the Jadoon. He responded in kind. “Sure.”

 

“Thanks a mill. I owe you big.”

 

The alien started to lead him down a winding hallway. “Well you're not so bad. You know, for a human,” she said.

 

“Thanks, I think. I'm Ryan.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “Ryan Sinclair.”

 

“I'm Boypi of the Keahjsh. Why is your arm extended like that? Are you injured?”

 

Ryan dropped his hand. “No, it's an Earth greeting. It means like, nice to meet you.”

 

“Oh. Nice to meet you as well Ryan Sinclair.”

 

Ryan smiled. “So how did you get into this gig anyway? Security doesn't seem like your passion, no offense. Do you like it?”

 

“I hate it,” she confessed. “I always wanted to be a gardener. My people esteem stewardship of nature above all else.”

 

“So what happened?”

 

“It wasn't meant to be. These days the green places ever dwindle. More and more land is put to commercial use, producing exports to other nations, and even other planets. The universe shrinks every day. Spaceflight is becoming faster and cheaper. There is money to be made for those quick enough.”

 

Ryan frowned. “It doesn't sound like you're a big fan of interplanetary relationships.”

 

The alien looked around to make sure they were alone. “I'm not at all. But what can anyone do about it? Progress marches on.”

 

Ryan examined her. “Well maybe there is something someone could do.” He hoped his casual tone concealed the acceleration of his heartbeat. “If there was a way to stop it, or at least slow it down, would you do it?”

 

She laughed. “How could there be?”

 

“But if there was a way? If you could say… prevent humanity from joining the Intergalactic Senate? Would you do it?”

 

Boypi shook her head. “I don't care what humans do, no offense. It doesn't matter to me if you get in or not. It is my own people that I wish would remember our roots.”

 

“Right,” Ryan said. He wondered how many others felt the same way. He wondered how many humans felt the same way. “But hasn't there been any benefit to contact with other cultures and planets? Technology? Art?”

 

“I suppose… This is the vault.” Boypi gestured at a large iron door. Ryan thought if he, Graham, Yaz and the Doctor all stood on each other's shoulders they still wouldn't reach the top. There was a keypad next to the door Boypi began to operate.

 

“Wow. That thing's massive.”

 

Boypi shrugged. “It's just a door.”

 

“Yeah, but have you ever seen one this big before? I mean in person, not pictures.”

 

“Everyday,” Boypi said as she entered the last number and the sound of tumblers turning filled the corridor. “I work here.”

 

Ryan watched the door open bit by bit and reveal rows and rows of shelves occupied by treasures Ryan could only speculate as to the immense value of. “Oh my days,” he said.

 

“Well we best hurry. Which shelf is the ambassador's? We don't want to linger.”

 

“Yeah, right.” Ryan entered the vault. His eyes roamed over jewelry that looked too heavy for any human to wear without toppling over. There were artworks that almost brought tears to his eyes for their beauty or sorrow. There were yellow documents, curled up at the edges with fading ink. There was a wood carving of an alien teaching a younger member of her species how to sew. Ryan stopped and looked at the intricate details.

 

“Ryan of the Sinclair. We cannot dawdle.”

 

Ryan straightened. “Yeah. Sorry. There's just so many amazing things in this room. It's like a museum almost. Don't people worry about having so many valuables in one place?”

 

“Of course. I can't tell you how many times a day someone demands I take them to the vault to check on their precious belongings.”

 

“Your insurance premiums must be crazy.”

 

“I shudder to consider,” she agreed. “That Oxfoot guy I was telling you about earlier-”

 

“Oxford,” Ryan corrected.

 

“Whatever. He insisted on coming down to check on his stuff pretty much right after he got here. He was a strange one,” Boypi said.

 

Ryan nodded as puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind. “Where's his shelf?”

 

“Why? We really need to finish our business and go. We can get in trouble lingering here.”

 

Ryan hesitated. He could use Boypi's help for his investigation. She knew a lot more about their surroundings than he did. However, he wasn't sure if he could trust her, and he was afraid the wrong decision might put the ambassador's life in danger. After all, Boypi hadn't shown herself to be in possession of any particular compassion or, perhaps of greater import, discretion. But time was of the essence, and a suspicion was forming in his mind, one he would need Boypi's help in order to prove. He wondered what the Doctor would do in his place. “Boypi, can you keep a secret? A big secret. Even from your bosses.”

 

Boypi gave him a sceptical look. “Why?”

 

Ryan took a deep breath. “Somebody tried to assassinate the Earth ambassador,” he said.

 

Boypi stared at him in shock. “What?!”

 

“Shhhhhh,” Ryan insisted. “I think it might have been a human. I think someone doesn't want us to join the Senate, and that person snuck in to kill the ambassador. It may even have been the Oxfoot- damnit now you've got me doing it- Oxford guy. I want to check his shelf for evidence. Where is it,” he asked.

 

Boypi frowned. “This is most irregular. We should contact my supervisors.”

 

“We can't,” Ryan whispered. “We don't know who we can trust, and each second we wait puts the ambassador's life in danger.”

 

Boypi bit her lip. “This is way above my pay grade. I never wanted this. I don't even like this job. Why are you confiding in me?”

 

Ryan's heart sank. But he wasn't ready to give up, not yet. “You're a gardener. You protect life, nurture it and help it grow.”

 

Boypi groaned. “Saints of green! I think I despise you Ryan of the Sinclair. The shelf is this way, hurry up.” She turned around and stormed off deeper into the vault.

 

Ryan followed, amazed his ploy worked. She brought him to a small black leather bag that was extraordinary only in how uninteresting it appeared to be. Ryan opened the bag as Boypi peared over his shoulder. “We should be careful. There might be explosives in here,” he warned her. But a moment later his tension was replaced with disappointment.

 

“It's empty,” Boypi said. “Why is it empty?”

 

Ryan examined the bag closer. There was nothing inside, save for a small red stain at the bottom, easy to miss. “I know why."


	4. Part Four

The Doctor pointed her Sonic at another locked door and watched it open. She roamed from secure area to secure area, looking for someone to strike up a conversation with. Someone here knew something that could help her make sense of everything. She just needed to find them and then figure out the right questions to ask.

 

“Excuse me madam! Who are you? How by the Saints did you get back here,” a mortified blue fellow demanded as he ran up to her.

 

“Hello,” the Doctor said with a big grin on her face. “I'm the Doctor. It's a pleasure to meet you. Is this a restricted area? I love a restricted area. The most interesting things always happen in restricted areas.”

 

“You are right outside the voting chamber for the Intergalactic Senate!” The blue man looked horrified. “You cannot be here!”

 

“See what I mean? I just got here and already interesting things are happening.”

 

“Miss-”

 

“Doctor,” she corrected him with good humor.

 

“Doctor! Fine! Once the advocation ends the Senate must be sequestered! No outside influence must be allowed to interfere with the process! It has always been this way!”

 

“Hang on just a mo,” The Doctor said as she held up her pointer finger. “So what you're telling me is that no new information goes to the Senate once they've started their deliberation? Even if something huge happens like a war or say… I dunno a tragic assassination?” The Doctor examined the walls with her Sonic as she spoke. The walls were all soundproofed with the most up to date technologies, lending credence to the claims of the flustered employee.

 

“It is forbidden!”

 

“Even if it's something that could impact the way the senators vote,” the Doctor asked.

 

“Especially if it is something that could impact the vote! Now please madam I must insist that you leave these halls at once!”

 

“Thank you, that's exactly what I needed to know,” the Doctor said as she jogged away down the hall. Her mind was spinning and whirring, formulating and discarding hypotheses one after another. She was so within her own head that she almost didn't see the man making his way down the hall until she all but ran into him. “Sorry!”

 

The man looked up. He had a weary wrinkled face, and the moment he saw her it twisted into an expression of hate. “You,” he snarled as he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pull out a baton. He swung with all his might, and the full force of his blow landed on her gut. “How I have dreamed of killing you.”

 

The Doctor gasped and doubled over in pain, arms encircling her waist. She looked at the man again and tried to place him. “You'll have to keep dreaming,” she spoke through the pain. “Krasko. When did you end up then?”

 

He raised the baton again, but then flinched and stumbled back a step as the neural inhibitor kicked in. “Doesn't matter.”

 

“You look like you've gotten on in years, but not enough years. Did you have friends that went looking for you? Hard to imagine a monster like you with friends though.”

 

Krasko grimaced. “They tracked me down.”

 

“But let me guess. They weren't precise enough in their calculations? How long were you stuck for? Twenty years? Thirty? Forty?”

 

Krasko swung the baton again, but this time the Doctor caught it in her hand and yanked it from his grasp. “Neural inhibitor starting to degrade then? They've a short lifespan, max out in fifty years. That's what my wife said anyway. Apparently you can also wear them out faster with a few tricks I'm just now thinking maybe I shouldn't tell you.” The Doctor tossed the baton to the side. “Is that how you were able to poison the ambassador's food? Killing with your own hands is still impossible, but putting a potion in a sauce, you could manage that?”

 

Krasko shook his head. “I was just the courier.” He smiled, a hateful ugly thing that made the Doctor almost as quesy as the tainted fowl had. “We have many friends.”

 

“The Senate's already gone into seclusion.”

 

“What is that to me?”

 

“Even if you had succeeded in killing the ambassador it wouldn't have made a difference. The Senate wouldn't have found out about it. The vote can't be impacted.”

 

Krasko gave a snort of derision. “Do you think I care what these… creatures decide?”

 

She looked into his eyes, full of malice, pits of antipathy. She shuddered. He had been a despicable man when last she encountered him, and his experiences in the meantime had not tempered him. On the contrary he had become harder, crueler. “Then why?”

 

“I already told you. History changes when tiny things don't go to plan,” his mouth split into an ugly yellow grin. “Old women die.”

 

“Not today. Not that woman.”

 

“It's not just me this time. I'm not the only one disgusted by what will become of humanity.”

 

“Thanks for the warning,” the Doctor mocked him. “I'll make sure to keep on the lookout for your hate-mongering friends,” she said.

 

He scowled. “We are well-funded and well-staffed. We'll keep coming back until the day is won. I promise you that.”

 

“And I'll be here, every time, to stop you.”

 

“You're one woman. You think you can stand in our way forever? I might not be able to kill you, but my associates are not so restricted.”

 

The Doctor smiled. It was not a kind or happy smile, and it brought her no joy. “You can kill me if you like. It won't help. Plenty have tried and some have succeeded, but in the end the same thing always happens. History remains intact. Time goes on as it should.”

 

Krasko laughed at her, but she saw the glint of fear in his eyes. “All because of you?”

 

She crossed her arms and leaned back to lear at him. “That's correct,” she said.

 

“No one is that powerful.”

 

She smiled again, an even colder nastier smile than before. She even feared for a moment the smile she wore was uglier and crueler than his had been. “You don't know who you're talking to. I could rip you apart down to your atoms and then scatter them across the universe. Do not mistake my benevolence for weakness. You've wasted your life on a crusade of hate, but your life isn't over. This is your chance, your last chance, to start over, mend your ways.”

 

Krasko started out chuckling, but his laughter grew more and more manic until he had to put his hand against the wall to support himself against the force of his gruesome guffaws. “Does that ever work?”

 

“I gave you a chance. You can't ever say that I didn't,” she said. She tried to keep the tinge of desperation out of her voice.

 

“Is that how you sleep at night? Is that what you tell the ghosts that haunt your dreams?”

 

“I don't sleep,” the Doctor said. “I'm always on call, every hour of every day that ever was or ever will be. Don't forget that. For your own sake I beg you. Don't ever forget.”

 

“Noted,” Krasko said with a slight incline of his head. “Now be on your way.”

 

The Doctor let go of a huff of irritation, but she decided not to waste any more time with Krasko. There was too much that needed to be done, and not an overabundance of time in which to do it. The Doctor turned her back on Krasko, and without sparing him another thought she set off down the hall. She almost collided into Ryan and the security woman from earlier partway down the stairs. “Hi! I remember you. How are you?”

 

“Fine,” the security woman said. “Well not fine at all actually, but… fine I guess.”

 

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “I know the feeling.”

 

“Doctor, this is Boypi of the Keahjsh.”

 

The Doctor took Boypi's hand and began to shake it with great enthusiasm. “Pleasure to meet you Boypi of the Keahjsh. I'm the Doctor. We've a lot to do, and I'm so glad you're on the team,” she gushed, trying to drown out her earlier darkness with friendliness and joy before Ryan could catch a glimpse of it. She was sure if she just kept smiling and bouncing about the darkness would not be able to catch her, not for long.

 

“Thank you…” Boypi said. “This contact is most strange, and a bit unpleasant.”

 

The Doctor dropped her hand at once. “My apologies. Now, I've some good news and some not so brilliant news. Where would we all like to start? Brilliant or not so?”

 

“Boypi and I found the bag used to smuggle in the poison. It was brought in by someone claiming to be an Oxford professor. She gave a pretty good description of him,” Ryan said.

 

“White male, getting on in years, cold eyes, nasty smile,” the Doctor asked.

 

Boypi frowned. “How did you know?”

 

“I just met him. His name is Krasko.”

 

Ryan's brows shot up. “That's impossible.”

 

The Doctor nodded in sympathy. “I'm sorry Ryan. He has allies, and they went back in time to look for him. They recovered him, albeit a much older version. He wants to kill the ambassador and change the course of human history. He wants humanity to stay secluded, not become a part of the universe.”

 

“What's so bad about that,” Boypi asked.

 

The Doctor paused her musing to give Boypi a disappointed look. “I had high hopes for you Boypi, and you're not doing a very good job of living up to them,” she told the alien.

 

Boypi scowled. “Obviously it's horrible that this man wants to kill. I'm against that in every way. All I meant was, is it so terrible that some humans don't want to mingle with other species? Green Saints know I wish I didn't have to, no offense. It's not always so great, all the intermingling,” she said.

 

Ryan interjected. “I'm all for a philosophical debate about globalization- er universalization? Never mind, the name isn’t important. What I'm saying is, we need to focus on the assassins. Everything else can wait until after, right,” he asked the women.

 

“Good point Ryan,” the Doctor said. “We'll put a pin in that for now. So here's where it gets interesting. The Senate is sequestered for the vote. They can't have any contact with the outside world until they've finished considering. Which means that killing the ambassador can't impact their decision.”

 

“So then what's the point,” Ryan asked.

 

“Exactly!”

 

“Well it can't influence this vote,” Boypi said.

 

“What's that,” the Doctor said.

 

“Most civilizations don't get into the Senate on their first applications. Maybe these assassins are playing the long game.”

 

The Doctor threw her hands to her head and pressed against her temples. “Of course! Oh Boypi of the Keahjsh you are brilliant! You haven't made up for your earlier failings, but you've made a great start,” the Doctor said.

 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

 

“Sometimes her compliments are a little wonky,” Ryan said. “But she means well.”

 

“I do. I really do.” The Doctor was doing calculations in her head, seeing the numbers dance before her eyes and then wink out like long dead stars. The years and the probabilities all lay out before her to reach out and grab. “I understand now! Tiny changes!”

 

“Is she going to explain what she's going on about,” Boypi asked Ryan.

 

“Eventually. You've got to give it a minute.”

 

“It was never about the Senate!”

 

“Then what's it about,” Ryan asked.

 

“Krasko doesn't care about the Senate because he doesn't value any life forms other than white humans. He doesn't care if they accept you, because the acceptance of nonhuman life forms is meaningless to him!”

 

“So what does he care about,” Boypi asked.

 

The Doctor was delighted to see Ryan's eyes light up. “The people! It's about the people back on Earth! It's about people like Boypi who don't want to join the wider world.”

 

“Exactly! Krasko wants humanity to stay on Earth. He doesn't want you to explore the stars and mingle with other races. He wants to keep as many people as he can away from being exposed to new cultures, new ideas, new genes. He wants stagnation.”

 

“And if people think an advocate for diplomacy was killed by aliens-” Ryan began.

 

“Which is why it had to be here! It's why he used an alien poison! He wants the ambassador to be die in such a way as to make people afraid of diversity and change!”

 

“We have to stop him,” Ryan said.

 

“We will,” the Doctor promised. She turned to Boypi. “Are you coming with us,” she asked.

 

“So you're saying this human is trying to kill one of his own kind and blame it on us?!”

 

“Pretty much,” Ryan said.

 

“Saints of green hear I will not let that go unchallenged. Lead the way Doctor.”


	5. Part Five

Yaz watched the ambassador sit on her sofa and a read a book in a language she didn't know, but looked familiar all the same. “What language is that,” Yaz asked when she could no longer suppress her curiosity.

 

The ambassador lowered her book and smiled at Yaz. “Esperanto,” she answered.

 

“Where's it from?”

 

“It's the international language. Almost everyone on Earth speaks Esperanto, though it isn't a first language for all of them.”

 

“So it's sort of like the 'common tongue’ you always hear about in fantasy stories.”

 

The ambassador laid her book in her lap and let her eyes roam over Yaz's face. “Yes, exactly so. These days you can go almost anywhere in the world and find somebody to talk to,” the ambassador said. “Even if you don't have a TARDIS translation matrix.”

 

Yaz jolted. “How do you know about that?”

 

The ambassador gave Yaz another fond smile. They were starting to seem almost patronizing, and they began to grate upon Yaz. “It's so hard to be here with you like this,” the ambassador said. “I know I shouldn't talk about your future, but all I want to do is reminisce about old times. You look so young to me.” Something seemed to occur to the ambassador. “This may be the youngest I've ever seen you. What a notion.”

 

Yaz considered the ambassador's statements. “What am I like in the future?”

 

“I probably shouldn't say,” the ambassador said. “Although I am very bad at holding my tongue,” she said with a mischievous grin.

 

Yaz leaned forward. “Go on then. I'm not asking for lottery numbers. Just a bit of a sneak peak. I'm not a jerk am I?”

 

The ambassador chuckled. “Yasmin Khan you are wonderful. I promise you that.”

 

A thought occurred to Yaz. “If we're ninety eight years into the future, then am I dead?”

 

The smile slipped off the ambassador's face and she she picked her book back up. “That is one thing we must not talk about.”

 

Silence, heavy and uncomfortable, settled over the two women. “I'm sorry,” Yaz said.

 

The ambassador sighed and relinquished her book once more. “I'm not angry. It is strange for me though. On the one hand I am so very happy to see you. On the other hand it's like you aren't really here, like I'm only looking at a picture of you. We can't talk about any of our shared experiences. I can't even tell you my name. And being as old as I am I keep thinking about how this is probably the last time you and I will ever get a chance to speak to each other. There's so much I want to tell you, so many wise last words I wish to say.”

 

Yaz nodded in realization. “But you can't say any of them. I'm sorry. I didn't think.”

 

The ambassador looked out of one of her windows, her brass wrinkles bathed in pale pink light. “I can't even say goodbye, because you'll see me again. It wouldn't stick.”

 

“I'll remember,” Yaz promised. “If there's something you want to say to me, even if I won't understand until later, you can tell me and I'll remember until it applies,” she said.

 

The ambassador gave Yaz a heartbreaking smile. For the first time since Yaz met her she wore every one of her one hundred and six years on her face. “I really shouldn't.”

 

“It'll be our secret,” Yaz swore.

 

The ambassador began to nod, a slow measured action, as though she was still considering even as she assented. “I will say a word of goodbye then. It won't make any sense to you now, but I cannot clarify no matter how much you ask. Is that alright?”

 

Yaz considered. She had a suspicion that if she agreed too soon the ambassador would withdraw. Yaz knew that whatever the ambassador had to say would in all likelihood inspire even more curiosity. Perhaps it was better to learn nothing at all then be consumed by questions for years or decades more. But Yaz couldn't pass up on the opportunity to learn something about the person she would become. “Yes, it is.”

 

The ambassador examined Yaz's eyes, and whatever she found there must have been to her satisfaction, because she leaned back and took a deep breath. “I should have listened to you. I'm not half so clever as I think I am. You're brilliant Yaz. I'm so very proud of you. I hope that you will be of me.”

 

Yaz opened her mouth to ask for clarification and then shut it fast enough for her teeth to clash together. She reached out and took the ambassador's hand in her own. “I am.”

 

The ambassador hugged Yaz, encircling the younger woman in wrinkled arms that didn't feel as frail as Yaz expected. “Thank you.”

 

“You're w-” Yaz was cut off by a strange hissing sound. She turned around and saw the door bubbling. A ring of metal was dissolving away. “That's not good.”

 

“It's like you always used to say. A lock is only as strong as the door to which it is attached.” The ambassador lit up. “Hey! You might have got that from me. And I always thought that was such a clever saying.”

 

“Is there another exit,” Yaz asked, trying to keep panic from bubbling up inside her like the disappearing metal. “Or a fire escape?”

 

The ambassador looked towards the windows. “Well… If we have a very long rope, then yes. Otherwise, I fear not,” she said.

 

The sound of a body hitting the door echoed through the room as the weakened metal bulged inward. “Do we have any rope?”

 

The ambassador stared at Yaz in utter disbelief. “Are you joking?”

 

The waiting assassin threw himself against the door once more. “I don't think so.”

 

“I'm over a hundred years old!”

 

Yaz gave the ambassador what she hoped was an encouraging grin, but that she knew without a doubt more resembled a terrified grimace. “But you look great!”

 

The ambassador huffed in exasperation as she yanked the wet runner off of her table and tossed it to Yaz. “Tie that around your waist,” she ordered as she began to scavenge the rest of her room. “It's always like this when the Doctor comes to call.”

 

“Yeah,” Yaz agreed as she assisted the ambassador and tried to ignore the weakening door. “But it is more fun when she's around.” Yaz tied two blankets together.

 

“Of course,” the ambassador said. “Never argued that.” The door fell inward with a resounding crash. The ambassador grabbed onto Yaz's arm for comfort. Yaz squeezed her hand in solidarity. “At least I know you'll be fine,” the ambassador said. “That's solace.”

 

A man stepped through the hole in the wall brandishing what had to be the strangest knife Yaz had ever seen. It was less a blade than a wicked claw. “Ambassador,” the assassin said in a mocking tone. “What an honor to be received in your quarters.”

 

“You are not welcome here,” the ambassador said with a conviction that did not betray the fear she had just revealed to Yaz.

 

“I'm crushed,” the assassin said.

 

Yaz put her arm around the ambassador's waist and started to back the both of them up towards the window. “Who are you and what do you want,” Yaz demanded of the man.

 

He marveled at his weapon. “Do you know what this is,” he asked the women.

 

“A Yiztek claw,” the ambassador said. “Trade in the body parts of intelligent species is prohibited,” she added. “That weapon is illegal to produce and possess.”

 

“Your indignation is amusing, and also not at all the point. Once I kill you with this the autopsy on you will conclude that you were killed by a Yiztek. Humanity will cry out for justice on behalf of their murdered ambassador, and when I say justice I mean vengeance. There will be no diplomacy thereafter, I promise you that,” the man said.

 

“You underestimate the human capacity for forgiveness and understanding,” she replied.

 

“That's right,” Yaz agreed.

 

“Do you think so? Well I'll just have to desecrate your corpse in order to bring the point home for the folks back on Earth.”

 

Yaz put the finishing touches to the knot she had been tying as the conversation had progressed. She put her lips to the ambassador's ear. “Climb on my back.”

 

The ambassador wrapped her arms around Yaz's chest. “My wife is going to laugh so hard if we survive this,” she whispered.

 

“When we survive this.”

 

The assassin lunged for the two women as Yaz clambered out of the window. The ambassador screamed as they fell, but they only dropped a metre. The ambassador clung to Yaz with all her strength while Yaz looked for something to secure their rope to before the assassin could cut them loose and send them to their deaths. Yaz grabbed hold of a metal bar that might once have been a flagpole and started to tie the rope. “Is that sturdy enough,” the ambassador asked.

 

“We're not in a surplus of options!”

 

Just as Yaz finished her knot there was a relief of pressure and the sensation of weightlessness as the assassin cut through the runner and sent them falling through the air again. To Yaz's immense gratification the rope held. However, that still left Yaz and the ambassador twisting in the wind. “I'm too old for this,” the ambassador shouted over the screaming wind. “I'm not as spry as I was when we went sailing on the Yihe river!”

 

“That sounds fun! I'm looking forward to it!”

 

The assassin leaned out the window and looked down at them. “You are a troublesome little pair. I'll give you that. But you're only prolonging your suffering. My lady has given the order for one dead ambassador and her request shall be carried out, with one poor little bystander added. I can see the headlines now. Innocent youth slain protecting dignitary from savage aliens-”

 

“Oh yeah?! And how were you going to frame anybody by cutting our line,” Yaz demanded.

 

The assassin scowled. He grabbed the window frame and perched upon the edge, like some carnivorous bird, far more deadly than the one which had almost liquified their internal organs. “He's mad,” the ambassador proclaimed. “He's going to climb down after us without a rope. The wind will snatch him away and he'll be smashed flat.”

 

“I'm not counting on it,” Yaz said. She looked around and saw a window a few metres away. “If we can just-” Yaz tried to brace her feet against the wall. “If we can just walk along the wall and get to that window.”

 

The ambassador tightened her grip on Yaz, but was careful to keep her arms around Yaz's chest and nowhere near her neck or arms. “I believe in you,” the ambassador said.

 

Yaz braced her legs against the wall and tried to walk herself and the ambassador over to the window, all the while doing her best to ignore the man climbing down after them, fingers gripping rough stone. “He is mad.”

 

“I think I can reach out and grab the pane-”

 

“No! Don't let go of me. I'm almost there, just keep hanging on,” Yaz insisted.

 

“He's almost to the flagpole!”

 

“Just keep hanging on!”

 

The ambassador tightened her grip with one arm, but let go with the other. She reached out and grabbed the window sill. Yaz was able to walk the rest of the way as the ambassador pulled them towards the window with her limited strength. Yaz grabbed the window and the ambassador returned her other arm to Yaz's chest. “He's still coming.”

 

Yaz looked through the window and saw something that almost made her weep with relief. She started banging on the window with one fist. “Graham! Graham!”

 

Her friend looked up from where he was examining a row of condiments and caught sight of her. His eyes bugged out. “Yaz?!”

 

“Open the window!” She looked up and saw the assassin reaching for the flagpole to cut apart their knot. “Open the window!”

 

Graham ran towards them and yanked the window open with all his strength. He reached through and offered his hands to the ambassador. She allowed him to grip her and pull her through. Just as the ambassador was safe on the other side Yaz felt the pull of the rope release. She clung to the window and felt Graham grab onto her, his arms circled around her waist. He threw himself back, and they both went tumbling onto the kitchen floor. “Bloody hell Yaz,” Graham shouted as they both struggled for breath. “Bloody hell!”

 

Yaz stared up at the ceiling. “We're alive.”

 

“Like I said,” the ambassador spoke. “Yasmin Khan you are brilliant. You saved us.”

 

Yaz closed her eyes. “Yeah, and now I think I might want to take a little nap.”


	6. Part Six

Graham cleared his throat and fiddled with the Doctor's paper as he approached the entrance to the kitchen. He was taken aback when he walked in and saw the sheer scale of the operation. There were huge vats of boiling liquid. Industrial ovens the sizes of dog houses worked away. Giant bins of chopped vegetables were on standby. He couldn't help but whistle at how impressive it all was. An employee stopped and whirled around to face Graham. “Who are you?”

 

Graham held up the paper. “Health and Safety mate, here to make sure everything is sanitary.” Graham put on his best obnoxious grin. “You mind showing me around a bit?”

 

“Are you kidding?! Do you have any idea how busy we are right now? Dignitaries from all the known systems are in their rooms waiting to be fed, and it's our job to feed them!”

 

“Which is why I have to make sure everything is on the up and up,” Graham said. “Get a move on then. Let's not waste time.”

 

The employee all but shrieked in frustration, grabbed onto his antennas and pulled like a child yanking their own hair. “Fine!” He led Graham deeper into the kitchen, radiating fury. “I'd like to see you explain the delay to our guests though. We're already short-staffed, and now this! Unbelievable!”

 

“Why are you short-staffed?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Graham grinned. “I like to be very thorough in my reports,” he said. “I take my job seriously.”

 

The employee scowled. “You bureaucrats and your red tape. You contribute nothing, but you see fit to judge the rest of us!”

 

“Bureaucracy keeps the world turning- or worlds I guess,” Graham said.

 

The employee hissed at him. “One of our new employees left in the middle of his shift.”

 

Graham stopped. “Where was he working?”

 

“Everywhere. He was a fetcher. He brought ingredients to chefs when they needed them.”

 

Graham nodded, contemplating. “I need to take a look at all of your ingredients.”

 

“ALL of them?!” The employee's overblown outrage might have been humorous under less serious circumstances. “Are you mad?!”

 

“All of them,” Graham confirmed. He tried not to enjoy himself too much as the employee stormed over to a shelf full of condiments and gestured to them. “Thanks mate.”

 

The employee departed, murmuring several unkind things about Graham and his lineage under his breath. Graham set to work looking for the poison, or anywhere the poison could have been tucked away. It was boring work, but Graham never let himself forget what was on the line. Graham heard an odd thumping sound that he assumed was a prep cook chipping vegetables. Then he thought he heard the sound of his own name.

 

Graham's turned around and gaped at a sight almost too absurd to believe. Yas was dangling from a rope outside the window, with a one hundred and six year old ambassador hanging onto her back. “Yaz?!”

 

“Open the window! Open the window!”

 

Graham raced to the window and yanked it open. He reached outside and allowed the ambassador to grip his arms while he took careful hold of her waist and pulled her into the kitchen. He set her down on her feet with all possible precaution, mindful of her advanced years. He heard Yaz yelp and he all but threw himself halfway through the window to grab hold of her. He took tight hold of her and braced his knees against the wall before throwing himself back and pulling her inside along with him. His head knocked against the stone floor. Yaz was sprawled across him. “Bloody hell Yaz! Bloody hell!”

 

Yaz rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, panting for breath. “We're alive,” she said like she couldn't believe it.

 

Graham struggled to his feet and looked around at the chaos. At least the ambassador was unharmed.  She even smiled as she looked down at Yaz. “Like I said, Yasmin Khan you are brilliant. You saved us.”

 

Yaz closed her eyes. “Yeah, and now I think I might want to take a little nap.”

 

Graham thought she more than deserved it, but that was when a man, armed with a cruel blade, jumped through the window and landed like a cat. Graham grabbed Yaz and pulled her to her feet. They stepped in front of the ambassador. “Don't do anything hasty mate,” Graham cautioned. “Easy does it.”

 

“You!” Graham looked over at the belligerent employee from earlier. He stalked towards the gathering and glared at the deranged armed man. “You walked out in the middle of your shift! If you think you're getting paid-!”

 

The assassin turned towards the employee and raised his knife, scowling.

 

“You're absolutely right. I'll talk to payroll and get that sent out to you at once.” The employee ran out, followed by a herd of other staff, leaving Graham and Yaz standing alone between the assassin and his target.

 

“You won't be able to frame anybody after all those people just saw you,” Yaz said.

 

“People? Those were aliens. Of course aliens will cover for other aliens. Their word won't mean anything back on Earth, I promise you.”

 

“What,” Graham asked. He was thrown.

 

“He intends to frame our brothers and sisters of the stars for my murder,” the ambassador explained to Graham. “Not enough to take my life, he intends to pervert my death.”

 

The assassin twirled the knife in his hand while grinning at them. “Perhaps they are your brothers and sisters. Maybe that's where you people come from. But I am of the superior race,” the man snarled.

 

“You're insane,” Graham marveled.

 

“No,” the ambassador said. “He is perfectly sane. His actions do not reflect upon those who suffer from mental illness. His heart is full of hate. I know your like. I've seen you a thousand times before, pitiful child-”

 

The assassin lunged forward. Graham took hold of the ambassador and pulled her out of the way. Graham hit the ground again, but he was grateful the ambassador landed on him instead of the hard floor, which might have broken her more brittle bones. Yaz grabbed a frying pan and swung at the assassin. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her arm behind and up her back. He pulled her flush to his body and put his knife to her throat. “Enough games! Give me the ambassador,” he roared.

 

Before any of them could react the lights went out, leaving the faint glow of the mint-colored moon as the singular source of light in the kitchen. “Let her go.” A chill ran down Graham's spine. He recognized the Doctor's voice, but it somehow didn't sound like the Doctor. “I'm offering you mercy.”

 

The assassin laughed. “Mercy? I'm going to slit her throat, and then when I'm done I-”

 

“Cover your eyes,” the Doctor ordered.

 

The ambassador and Graham hurried to obey the Doctor's instructions. The lights in the room returned, but they grew stronger and stronger. Even with his hands over closed eyelids Graham could feel the light trying to force its way into his eyes. It was on his skin, beating into his pores. The assassin screamed. “My eyes! I can't see! My eyes!”

 

The feeling of the light faded away. “You can open your eyes now.” Graham looked up and saw the assassin on the floor, whimpering and holding his face. Yaz was lowering her hands away from her face. She had followed the Doctor's instructions and was fine. The ambassador lowered her hands. She was unharmed. Behind the Doctor stood Ryan and one of the security guards from earlier.

 

“You alright Granddad?”

 

Graham nodded. “Yeah, I…” Graham stared at the man kneeling on the ground whimpering in pain. “Doc, you blinded him.”

 

“I told everyone to cover their eyes,” the Doctor said. “If he had done so he would have been fine. Did he hurt you Yaz?”

 

“No, I uh… I'm fine. I think.”

 

Graham looked at his grandson again. Ryan looked somewhat queasy, and Graham was sure a similar expression was on his own face as well. “There are other members of his organization here,” the Doctor said, as if she hadn't just maimed somebody. “It's not safe for you ambassador. We need to get you off this planet.” The Doctor frowned as though something was just occuring to her. “Why did the two of you come in here anyway?”

 

“We didn't really choose it,” Yaz explained.

 

“Came in through the window,” the ambassador elaborated. “Terrifying at the time, and thrilling in retrospect.”

 

Ryan went over to the window and peaked outside. “You did not,” he asked, stunned.

 

“Doctor,” Yaz said. “Should we get a- should we get medical attention for him?”

 

“He'll be fine,” the Doctor said. “I was.”

 

Graham couldn't stop looking at the pitiful figure on the floor. He had tried to kill the ambassador, and Yaz. Graham supposed he didn't deserve any better. Given a choice between a dead friend and a maimed enemy Graham much preferred the situation as it was. Yet even still he was unsettled by the total lack of apprehension in the Doctor. She was so certain she had made the right decision. It wasn't that Graham disagreed, more that he didn't have that level of certainty, and he found it a bit frightening.

 

“The spaceport is far,” the security guard said. “And there are no ships bound for Earth in dock. The ambassador's ship is the next one scheduled, and not due to arrive for another week. We should contact my supervisors. They can lock down the-”

 

“No Boypi, no,” the Doctor said. “I've a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and contacting one's superiors is almost never a productive course of action. Besides, I have a ship that's parked just outside, so all we need to do is get to the bottom of the tower.”

 

“What?” Boypi looked at the Doctor as though she were insane. “You can't have a ship just outside, that's impossible.”

 

“Boypi, I need you to have a little bit of faith in me,” the Doctor insisted. “I kind of know what I am doing. We just need to get downstairs.”

 

Boypi shook her head. “I don't even know who you are. All I know of you is that you maimed a man and now reject the idea of providing him medical aid. If you are a representative of your people than it is my hope that humans are not admitted into-”

 

“I'm not human!” The Doctor's shout was so uncharacteristic of her that it stunned all of them into silence. Graham stared at her with wide eyes. After a moment she calmed, a serene venere covering the anger and frustration that had leaked through. The change was so sudden and complete Graham almost wondered if he had imagined her loss of control. “I'm not human. I'm something much older than that. My people watched the central star of your solar system form, Boypi of the Keahjsh. We saw the first of your ancestors climb out of the sea, and the last of your descendants perish in the great warming which you brought upon yourselves, and ended your species.”

 

“These lies I will not hear by the Saints of green,” Boypi whispered in a horrified voice.

 

“Then go,” the Doctor snapped. “You're of no use to us. Let us get on with our work.”

 

“Doctor-” Ryan began.

 

“Don't worry Ryan of the Sinclair. I take my leave most gladly,” Boypi said as she exited the chaotic landscape of the kitchen.

 

The Doctor was already bouncing off the walls, working on some plan. “If I could rig up some kind of elevator mechanism…” Graham didn't hear the rest of her sentence, because he was focused on his grandson. Ryan was headed for the door. The Doctor noticed as well, and stopped. “Where are you going?”

 

“I'm going after Boypi.”

 

“Ryan it's dangerous outside,” Graham said.

 

“That's why I need to go after her.” Ryan left without another word. Graham looked at the Doctor, hoping she would say something to assuage his fears. But she only looked away in shame.


	7. Part Seven

Ryan jogged down the hall in search of his new, sort of, friend. He knew that Boypi hadn't been the most helpful accomplice they'd ever encountered in their travels, and she had espoused antipathy for his species more than once, but all the same he felt an obligation to her. He had pulled her into their affairs, and he didn't want any harm to befall her on his account. He came to a fork and looked down the different paths. “Boypi?”

 

“I remember you.”

 

Ryan turned around. Standing behind him was a man he had thought and hoped he would never see again. “You look terrible.”

 

Krasko smiled. “You look the same. 1955 was what, a hundred and sixty two years ago?”

 

“Time flies,” Ryan said. “Did you have fun being chased by velociraptors?”

 

Krasko raised a baton and took a step towards Ryan. Before he could attack an orange blur impacted him. He hit the ground with Boypi on his chest, her sharp talons imbedded in his shoulders. “Ahhhh!”

 

“Wow. I didn't know you had those.”

 

“Why do you think they hired me to work security,” she asked. “Now sir, it looks like-”

 

Krasko reached up and slapped the side of Boypi's head. The blow didn't seem to have that much force behind it. Krasko was older now, and injured on top of that. None the less Boypi fell off of him. She convulsed on the ground and screeched. The sound was terrifying; it reached into Ryan and stripped his nerves bare. Ryan saw a metal disk attached to the side of her head. “What did you do to her,” Ryan demanded as he ran towards Boypi. “What is that thing?!”

 

“My life for the future of the human race.”

 

“What?!”

 

All at once Boypi stopped screaming. She sat up, and without warning she swiped her talons at Ryan. He scrambled back, but she still managed to get four parallel slices into his arm. Ryan struggled to his feet and started to run back to the others. He needed the Doctor. The Doctor could fix this. A shrill scream stopped him dead. Ryan turned around and saw Boypi standing over Krasko's body. He was prone on the floor, a puddle of blood forming under the jagged wound in his throat. Boypi turned around with slow deliberate movements. She opened her mouth, but then struggled with the words that came out, as though she were fighting against herself. “K-” She seemed to choke on the sound. “Kill,” she hacked up. “All,” she gasped. “Humans,” she croaked.

 

Ryan's eyes widened. “Boypi-” Ryan didn't have time to argue with Boypi, as futile as he knew such an attempt would be anyway. She charged at him, and he was forced to turn and flee. “Doctor! Doctor! DOC! TOR!”

 

Ryan turned a corner and saw Graham running towards him. “Ryan! What hap-”

 

Ryan gesticulated with fervor. “Run!”

 

Graham had the good sense to listen to his grandson. He turned and ran. The Doctor, Yaz and the ambassador had been right behind him, and Yaz and the Ambassador turned and ran as well. The Doctor however didn't leave her position. She pointed her Sonic at Boypi and studied it. “Oh that's a clever trick. He probably got the idea when he was researching ways around the inhibitor. Turning people into weapons.”

 

“Doctor run,” Yaz yelled.

 

She needn't have bothered. Boypi ran right past the Doctor, almost as if she didn't even see her. “Fascinating,” the Doctor said.

 

Ryan felt a body slam into him. He hit the ground hard. “Oi! Keep your mitts off my grandson,” Graham shouted. He turned around and tackled Boypi. Boypi slashed at Graham, drawing red lines across his face.

 

“Granddad!” Ryan got to his feet.

 

Boypi slashed at Graham again, but Ryan yanked him out of the way. The Doctor stepped behind Boypi. Boypi took no notice of her, despite the fact that the Doctor was in plain view and making no effort at all to conceal herself. The Doctor pointed her Sonic at Boypi again. “Neural override, set to one command. Kill all humans. It's the only thing she can do. She's not in control.”

 

Boypi lunged for Graham and Ryan, but the Doctor pointed her Sonic up and the lights went out once more. She took their hands and ran. They soon caught up to Yaz and the ambassador in a different lit hall. Yaz was supporting the ambassador, who had her hand to her chest and seemed to be struggling with pulmonary function. “I haven't run like this in ages. Oh to be twenty again.”

 

“I was twenty once,” the Doctor said. “Didn't care for it. Everyone talked down to me as if I were some sort of toddler. Technically I was, but that's not the point,” she said.

 

“Graham! Ryan! You're hurt!” Yaz looked at them in horror. Ryan felt the pain in his arm with greater intensity now that attention had been called to it. He watched Graham wipe beads of blood away from his face.

 

The sound of footsteps tipped them off that Boypi had found them. “Go,” the Doctor said.

 

Yaz shook her head. “I don't think the ambassador can run anymore.”

 

Ryan knew what he had to do, and he knew that there wasn't time to consider his options or tell his friends. He started running towards Boypi. “Ryan!” Graham sounded panicked.

 

“I'll go after him,” the Doctor shouted. “Get the ambassador to safety,” she ordered.

 

Ryan heard two sets of running feet behind him as he made his way towards his new friend that wanted to kill him. His life had never been this complicated before he met the Doctor. He stopped just long enough for Boypi to see him, and for him to see Graham and the Doctor out of the corner of his eye, before he took off running again. He led Boypi away from the ambassador. He wished Graham had stayed with her and Yaz where it was safer. At the same time he couldn't expect Graham to ever abandon him if he was in danger. Graham would never dishonor Nan's memory like that. Ryan ran and ran, until he saw something that made him want to weep. There was a dead end in front of him, a cold impassive grey wall. Ryan turned around to face his pursuer. Graham took up a spot next to him. The Doctor stood in front of them, trying to shield their two bodies with her one petite body. Boypi trembled in front of them, her body suffering under the effects of the neural override. Ryan's heart ached.

 

“Boypi,” the Doctor said in a soothing voice that betrayed a bit of panic. “I can help you.”

 

“Kill all humans,” she coughed up.

 

“No, you don't have to do that Boypi. I can disable the neural override. Just stand still and give me a few minutes to work.”

 

“Kill all humans.” She looked up at the ceiling and let out a gut-wrenching scream.

 

The Doctor opened her mouth to try once more, but she was cut off by a series of guttural syllables. Ryan looked down the hall and saw a parade of Jadoon. He was almost relieved until he saw the panic on the Doctor's face. “No! Don't! It isn't her fault!”

 

“What are they going to do,” Graham asked.

 

Ryan saw the head of the procession take out a cylindrical device. He didn't need to hear the Doctor's answer. He knew what was about to happen to Boypi. Ryan rushed forward and tackled Boypi out of the way just in time to miss a beam of blue light that scorched the wall. Ryan smelled smoke and shivered at the idea of what that weapon could have done to him or Boypi. The Doctor began to plead with the Jadoon using their  harsh syllables. Boypi grabbed Ryan's arms with her talons and shoved him over so that he lay on the ground and she was atop him.

 

“Ryan!” Graham's voice trembled with fear.

 

Ryan knew Graham wouldn't get to him in time to stop Boypi. He saw her raise a hand in preparation of a killing blow. The Doctor was distracted. She wouldn't be able to get to him in time either. Ryan looked into Boypi's eyes and saw pain. She wasn't the one killing him. Her body was being used as a tool by people who saw her as inferior. He didn't blame her for what was happening. If he only had a chance for one statement, he wanted to make sure she knew that. “This isn't your fault Boypi. I'm sorry I got you involved.”

 

Boypi's hand was frozen above him. She was shaking. “K-” Her voice sounded as if she had been gargling battery acid. “Ki-ki-ki-ki-”

 

Then the Doctor was there. She put her Sonic next to Boypi's head, and after a moment the metal disk fell off. Boypi convulsed and then collapsed. The Doctor used gentle hands to take her off Ryan and lay her on the ground while Graham knelt down and helped Ryan up. Once Ryan was on his feet Graham pulled him into a tight embrace. “I thought I lost you son.”

 

Ryan felt tears drop onto his neck from his grandfather's eyes. He returned the hug, heedless of the blood they were getting on each other. “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

More harsh syllables reminded Ryan that the situation was still volatile. Ryan looked at the lead Jadoon, who had his weapon out and pointed at where Boypi lay on the floor and the Doctor knelt by her side. With slow deliberate movements the Doctor got to her feet, keeping her body in front of Boypi, shielding her from any violence. “You will not harm this woman. You would have to kill me to get to her, and trust me, killing me won't achieve much more than making me angry.”

 

Ryan didn't understand the Jadoon's response, but the fact that they kept in formation with their weapons brandished unnerved Ryan. Ryan looked at Graham and saw his fears reflected in his grandfather's eyes. “What do we do,” Ryan whispered.

 

“We have to trust the Doc.”

 

Ryan nodded. He found that even though the Doctor had scared him earlier, and even though he knew she didn't care for Boypi at all, he had absolute faith that she would save the alien. She was the Doctor. Saving people was what she did. Maybe there was a rage inside of her, an aspect of her personality Ryan hadn't seen before, or maybe just hadn't chosen to acknowledge. Yet even still he believed in her. She was the Doctor. Ryan thought he might believe in her more than he had ever believed in anything. He recalled being on the Tsuranga and listening to the prayer being said over the general. When he heard about the saints of the constellations his mind had at once lept to the Doctor. She might be one of those saints, and even if she wasn't in an official capacity, as far as Ryan was concerned she was. She was an angel, going from star to star, healing what was broken, because she was the Doctor.

 

“I will explain everything that has happened here and take you to the true culprits so long as you acknowledge the total innocence of this young woman and provide her with the medical care she requires,” the Doctor said.

 

Boypi moaned in pain. Ryan knelt down to comfort her. “It's alright. The Doctor is taking care of you. She'll take care of everything.”

 

The Jadoon spoke again. Ryan looked at the Doctor, trying to gauge their situation from her expression. She nodded, and then turned to Graham and Ryan. “Wait here until the medics arrive. They'll see to you both as well as Boypi. When she's safe try to find Yaz and the ambassador. I'll see you soon.” With a hesitant smile she took her leave of them.

 

Ryan smiled at Boypi. “Hear that? It's all soon to be sorted. You just rest for a minute.”

 

“Thank you, Ryan of the Sinclair,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.


	8. Part Eight

The Doctor led the Jadoon to the kitchen projecting an air of confidence and ease that she did not feel. The man inside was still whimpering and cowering. The Doctor wanted nothing in the world so much as to avert her gaze, but she made herself look at the man. She pictured him with a knife at Yaz's throat, prepared to kill her, to take her away from the Doctor. She couldn't bring herself to regret blinding him. It was not as though she had stolen something essential to his humanity. The Doctor had been blind herself once, and though she had at times missed the sense, it had not been with a sense of longing or despair. She wished for her sight back the same way humans might wish for telepathy. It was something she did not have that on occasion she thought would have been convenient or nice to have, but made little difference in her day to day life and affairs. Losing a sense is more a matter of adjustment than anything, and the Doctor liked to think of herself as a very flexible person. She had taken a man's eyes, but she had left him his mind and soul, as pitiful as that mind and soul might be. Even when the Doctor had required her sight back to save her life the situation hadn't been caused by her blindness, but by her own hubris, as was so often the case. This man could get by fine in life without sight. After all, it was the twenty-second century, a much less ableist time than the twenty-first. All these thoughts went through her head in a single moment before the Doctor reminded herself that none of it mattered, because terrorism at the headquarters of the Intergalactic Senate was punishable by death. The Jadoon stepped forward and grabbed the man by his arms before beginning to drag him away. She wasn't going to kill him. She had no say in the matter. But she couldn't deceive herself that she wasn't complicit. “Wait,” she ordered.

 

The Jadoon paused. There weren't many people that a Jadoon would take orders from, but the tone of her voice brokered no argument. The Doctor stood in front of the man. As short as she was she towered over someone on his knees. “Who's your patron?”

 

“Please. Help me. They'll kill me,” the man begged. “You have to help me. I'll tell you everything, just make them spare me.”

 

The Doctor found herself thinking about Margaret, the gleeful murderer she had found it within herself to bestow mercy on. But she couldn't revert this man into an infant. She looked at the Jadoon. “This man is part of a terrorist organization with access to time travel and other deadly weapons. Make a deal with him to get the name of his sponsor.”

 

The leader looked at the man. “Jadoon do not deal with criminals. He will be sentenced.”

 

It was almost funny that the Jadoon didn't realize that they were talking to and dealing with one of the Universe's most notorious criminals at that very moment. “What did they say,” the man pleaded. “Will they deal?”

 

“They said yes,” the Doctor said. She looked at the pitiful creature on the floor, the vile violent man who had been willing and eager to murder a senior citizen. “They said they'll make a deal with you if you tell me who your sponsor is. Tell me now,” she insisted.

 

“Will I get immunity?”

 

He'd never believe that. “You'll get to live.”

 

“The Jadoon will take their prisoner now.”

 

“What did they say,” the assassin pleaded.

 

“They said speak now or no deal.”

 

“But-” The Jadoon started to drag the assassin away. “Okay! Her name is Lady Cassandra O'Brien! She gave us money and put us in touch with corrupt time agents willing to sell tech! She recruited new members from Stormcage! She wants humanity to stay pure!” The Jadoon continued down the hall as though they couldn't hear the man at all. To their ears his words must have sounded like nothing more than gibberish, but the Doctor understood, and she was horrified. “Tell them I'm cooperating! Make them stop! I'm telling the truth! Make them spare me! Please!”

 

The Doctor walked away. Lady Cassandra O'Brien wouldn't be born for millennia, and none of what the assassin had revealed would have any meaning to a contemporary Jadoon squadron. The Doctor alone had the knowledge and resources to follow the leads he had just given. The Jadoon weren't well-equipped for investigations. They used physical force to solve problems, not intellectual inquiry. The Doctor felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She stopped and put her hand on a wall. She was tired. All she had wanted was to show her friends something beautiful and hopeful. She had wanted to show them cooperation, diplomacy and good will. Instead they had seen cruelty, deception and violence. Some of it had even been done by herself. The Doctor dropped her head onto the wall. The abrasive stone was uncomfortable against the smooth skin of her brow, but at least it was a physical sensation. She focused on that mild irritation and tried to drown out the twisting in her gut.

 

“Doctor?” The Doctor stood and turned to face Yaz. Yaz offered her a smile. “Ryan and Graham are in the infirmary with the ambassador. There's loads of security about down there. They're all safe. I promise.”

 

The Doctor offered Yaz a weak grin. “Good.”

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“I'm just.” Angry. Overwhelmed. Guilty. Grief-stricken. Horrified. Scared. Confused. Despondent. In pain. Furious. So- “Tired.”

 

Yaz stepped forward and pulled the Doctor into a hug. “Let's go somewhere fun next.”

 

The Doctor thought of Cassandra. She had been kind to Cassandra. She had tried to make the woman's last moments peaceful and happy. All the while Cassandra had done this. It was always wrong. Every decision later turned out to be wrong. She had been too merciful, or not merciful enough. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She had been KIND to Cassandra, and she hadn't deserved it.

 

“Doctor. Talk to me. Let me help.”

 

The Doctor pulled back just enough to look at Yaz's face. “I don't know if you can.”

 

Yaz reached out and brushed a single lock of hair behind the Doctor's ear. “I can try.”

 

The Doctor nodded. “I know who's responsible for all of this, but I…” The Doctor sighed. “How to explain the intricacies of time travel? The nature of fixed points and multi-layered causality? There's this gigantic rug on the floor being sewn by dozens- hundreds- thousands!- millions!- of different people. It's my job to make sure the pattern doesn't get disrupted. But if a mistake is made, and I tug on a thread to undo it I could unravel the entire thing! I could wipe out creation trying to save it!” The Doctor disentangled herself from Yaz and started pacing up and down. “I can try my best and just make it worse Yaz. But if I do nothing at all then it's my fault when people get hurt.”

 

“You can't be responsible for the whole Universe,” Yaz insisted. “You do the best you can. That's enough.” She looked so sure, but the Doctor knew that certainty was based on the human naivety about the workings of the Universe more than a well informed, well considered judgement. “You saved the ambassador. You prevented a war.”

 

“Maybe,” the Doctor said. “But-”

 

“That's enough,” Yaz stated with an air of finality. “You've done enough.”

 

“Oh Yaz, it's never enough. There's always more work to be done, and I'm the only one left who can do it. There's no one else.”

 

“There's us. There's me and Graham and Ryan. I know we aren't as smart as you are, or as strong as you are, or as brave as-”

 

“No,” the Doctor said. “You're braver.”

 

Yaz grinned. Her smile was like the sun peaking over the mountains. The Doctor felt her hearts warm. “We're with you, for better or worse we're- uh-” Yaz gave a nervous chuckle. “That sounded like we’re getting married. Anyway, I just mean that we're in this for the long haul. Not everything has to be all on your shoulders all the time.”

 

“But-”

 

The Doctor had a million arguments to the contrary, but at that moment a harried employee ran past them and then came to a sudden stop. “What are you doing up here?!”

 

“Sorry,” Yaz said. “We were just-”

 

“If you want to be down in time to hear the results you had better hurry!” Then he was running again, there one moment, then gone.

 

Yaz grinned. She took the Doctor's hand, and then they were running as well. Maybe, after all the pain and grief of this day something good was about to happen. If so, the Doctor couldn't think of anyone she would rather share this moment with. When they arrived at the auditorium their friends weren't difficult to find. Ryan and Graham were sitting up front with the ambassador, and the trio had saved two seats for them. Yaz sat next to the ambassador, and the Doctor took the seat next to Yaz. She saw white patches on Graham's face and Ryan's arm, but to her relief there were no other signs of damage.

 

An alien took the podium, and they all waited with baited breath. “I understand there has been a minor security breach-”

 

Graham scoffed. “A minor-”

 

“Shhhh,” Yaz hushed him.

 

“Rest assured that the matter has been handled by our competent security staff.”

 

“We don't even get a mention,” Ryan asked.

 

“You may all be surprised by the speed with which deliberation passed. I'm sure we all remember the month-long deliberation that followed the Fwizii advocation. The delegates found this decision to be no less complex or meaningful than any other we have undertaken, but it was a matter upon which many of us share a like mind.”

 

The ambassador sighed and looked down at the floor. “What's wrong,” Yaz asked.

 

But the Doctor knew, even before the speaker said “We will not be accepting the species designated Humanity into the Intergalactic Senate at this time.”

 

“What?!” Ryan, Yaz and Graham all exclaimed their shock at once.

 

“After all that,” Graham groused.

 

“But we stopped him,” Yaz shouted.

 

“That's not fair,” Ryan complained.

 

The ambassador put one hand on Ryan's shoulder and another on Yaz's. “My friends do not despair. Patience is a virtue, as you once taught me. We will join one day, even if I do not live to see it. I am more confident now than ever. If our failure were permanent our enemies would not have felt the need to interfere.” She smiled. “Rejoice. I beg you.”

 

Silence fell over them for a time. Ryan was the first to break it. “I'm going to go check on Boypi before we leave. I'll meet you all back at the TARDIS.” He joined the crowd dispersing from the room. The Doctor watched him go, the weight of the day resting heavy on his shoulders. She wished she could lighten the load, but she wasn't sure she even had enough strength for her own.

 

“You will live to see it ambassador,” Graham spoke up. “I know you will. I believe it.”

 

The ambassador kissed his cheek. “I thank you my friend.” She kissed Yaz's cheek as well before standing. “I thank you all.”

 

“I'm glad you're safe,” Yaz said.

 

The ambassador bowed her head to show her appreciation and then reached out a hand to the Doctor. The Doctor took the hand, although she was unsure what she was meant to do with it. “Thank you for coming.”

 

“I'm looking forward to meeting you,” the Doctor said. “Do you want a lift home?”

 

The ambassador shook her head. “No, I must show what a gracious loser I am and ingratiate my species with our detractors. My wife will come pick me up at week's end.”

 

The Doctor nodded. “Until next time.”

 

The ambassador looked away then, in a futile attempt to conceal a spasm of powerful emotion. “Yes, until then. Goodbye all.”

 

They all waved goodbye as she left. “Do you think we'll recognize her,” Yaz asked.

 

“Probably not,” Graham said. “She made it sound like she was young when we met, and appearance changes a lot over decades.”

 

“Hmm,” Yaz said. “I suppose.” She turned to the Doctor. “So, somewhere fun and calm?”

 

The Doctor nodded. “Yes. I think that's what we all need. Let's collect Ryan.” The Doctor felt Yaz slip her hand inside the Doctor's as they walked away. It didn't banish every doubt and fear, but it offered the Doctor some modicum of peace. That would have to be sufficient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's The Ambassador of Earth! Let me know what you thought? Please. Maybe? Up next is All the Good Little Boys and Girls. The Doctor and co. are in contemporary London, but something weird is going on. A mysterious theme park has opened up full of children whose behavior is most strange. Stay tuned if that sounds appealing!


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